A Hundred Harmonies
by VivyPotter
Summary: "Harry fell more and more in love with Hermione everyday." A collection of (hopefully) a hundred drabbles/oneshots about Harry/Hermione, because those two were made for each other.
1. Love

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and all rights go to JK!**

* * *

Love

Harry doesn't really know what love is.

The Dursleys certainly don't care much for him. So much for blood runs thicker than water.

He might love Dumbledore, but sometimes Harry looks back on the old man's actions and wonders if he ever truly cared for him, or if it was all just manipulation.

Ron _claims_ to love him (as a best friend, of course), but he's already turned his back on Harry once before, and no matter what Harry says, he's not sure if they'll ever really mend the broken bond between them.

But when Hermione insists he put a scarf on –_"because it's freezing out there!"_ – and brings him a piece of toast in the library even though it's against the rules, Harry gets this funny warmth in his stomach.

Maybe he does know what love is, after all.


	2. Dreams

Dreams

"You _have_ to concentrate on Occlumency, Harry. If Professor Dumbledore didn't think it was important then he wouldn't have asked Professor Snape to give you lessons."

"C'mon Hermione, give the guy a break. If I was stuck in a classroom with the greasy git every evening, I don't think _I'd_ be up to much either."

"Honestly Ronald! It's not _every_ night, and I'm sure Professor Snape knows what he's doing. Harry would tell me if he didn't think he could handle it."

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, as if to share a _'mental, I'm telling you.'_

Harry didn't mention that the reason he wasn't practising was because he didn't want to miss a single dream. They were the only place he could tell Hermione he loved her.


	3. Beauty

Beauty

Harry wondered what people saw when they looked at Hermione. They couldn't be seeing the same girl as he did, because then how could they call her plain and jeer at her 'buckteeth'? How could they mock her 'bushy' hair?

Harry _loved_ how natural Hermione was. It fascinated him how, whenever she was passionate about something, her curls would dance. He admired how she didn't need make up to catch someone's attention; a _smile_ – with perfect teeth - was enough.

Harry sometimes mused if he was the only person who saw these things.

And he resolved to tell Hermione how beautiful she was every single day.


	4. Haunted

Haunted

Harry felt guilt weighing heavily on his mind. Ron was gone, and Harry had cruelly – _callously _– taken the opportunity to _finally _hold Hermione, without a jealous glare from Ron making her flinch away.

Ron had left them, and lost his claim to haunt them still.

But that didn't stop Hermione from checking over her shoulder whenever they hugged, didn't stop Harry from beginning an apology to an empty space whenever they kissed.

But _Ron_ had betrayed _them_, not the other way round, and so he had no _right _to echo through the space like an unspoken-of barrier between Harry and Hermione.

So Harry buried his face into her soft, lemon-scented curls, and ignored the disapproving shadow in the corner of the tent.

It was only a ghost.


	5. Memory

Memory

The memories hit him hard.

The _crack!_ of a belt, the harsh bellows of a fat, _terrifying_ giant, the high shrieks of a skeleton, the _painpainpainpainpain_ and the cold, _squeezing _sensation, he couldn't get out! – _'Let me out, please! Uncle, please! I can't breath-'_

And then he is enveloped by warmth. The comforting arms around him slow his frantic heart and she's whispering, 'It's just a boggart, Harry. It can't hurt you, I promise. It's just a memory."

And then he opens his eyes.


	6. Fragile

Fragile

It didn't strike Harry how fragile Hermione was until he happened upon her crying.

It was late one evening, the kind of late when even the seventh years had gone to bed, and only Hermione was still working. She'd finally persuaded Harry to do his Potions essay the night he'd got it and- _Merlin-_ had it taken long. But he'd finally scribbled down a swift conclusion that he hoped made sense in the morning and struggled to his feet. He yawned, told her he was turning in, and padded up the stairs blearily.

About halfway up, he remembered his essay, and how it was still lying on one of the plush chairs. Harry shrugged, and brushed it off, collapsing onto his bed. About an hour later Harry awoke, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. For some reason, the image of Fred and George taking turns in peeing on his homework was fresh in his mind, so he staggered to his feet and trudged back into the common room.

Then he heard sobbing. Hermione sat, staring into the crackling fire, with tears running down her face. He didn't know what to do: should he comfort her? And so he froze.

And as he watched Hermione curl up in a ball and hug herself tightly, his image of her as a strong, unbreakable rock crumbled.

And he wasn't sure what to think.


	7. Celebration

Celebration

Harry watched Hermione's face light up as the results were announced. He could see the realisation dawn – they'd won the House Cup and it was partly due to her! – and she began grinning like a loony. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

"Oh, _thank _you!" She exclaimed, burying her head into his shoulder. Harry awkwardly patted her shoulder. "S'ok." He told her gruffly. Although he wasn't sure what he'd done.

Whatever it was, he'd do it again.


	8. Secret

Secret

Ron tugged Lavender down the corridor, the both of them giggling like five year olds. They hadn't even turned the corner when they started snogging passionately (and rather wetly), causing some passing first years to throw them furtive glances and scurry away.

Harry looked to Hermione, who gave his hand a tight squeeze and a look that promised '_later'_. He quirked a smile at her and, checking that the corridor was empty, planted a swift kiss on her cheekbone. A light blush rose to the surface of Hermione's face and she gave him a quick peck on the lips back. Then they strolled away, looking to all the world like a pair of close friends.

Their relationship wouldn't keep quiet for long, it was inevitable.

But, for now, it was their secret.


	9. Promise

Promise

Harry sat in the Room of Requirement, staring at the walls. Hermione and Ron had just started dating, and almost immediately there were rumours and bets flying around Hogwarts as to who would dump who and how long it would last. Harry didn't want to think about it. They had only been together a few hours and they had already had their first couple fight. It had involved the great hall, roast potatoes and a few terrified second years.

Harry thought about that time in their fourth year, when Hermione had leant her head on his shoulder and promised that he would always come first.

Morosely, he wondered if she had forgotten.


	10. Moonlight

Moonlight

Harry stroked his finger along the ridge of Hermione's cheekbone. Under the moonlight she appeared a goddess, untouched by worry or fear. With her face bathed in a silvery glow, it was like the last few years never happened; like _Ron_ never happened.

…Like _Harry_ never happened.

He felt guilt like a stone in his stomach. It was all his _fault_.

He just wished he could wash away her pain in moonshine, immerse her in luminescence, so she would emerge untouched by the cruelty all around them.

She looked so calm, and so _beautiful_, but Harry knew the innocent ignorance, the absence of blood-curdling _terror_, would be gone by the morning.

And it was all because of him.


	11. Innocence

Innocence

Harry looked at Hermione. He wondered why he smiled whenever she did. He wondered why, whenever she hugged him, he breathed in as deeply as possible. He wondered why, whenever she grabbed his hand, he felt his cheeks glowing red. He wondered why, whenever he called her his sister, he felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He wondered why, whenever Ron got too close to her, he found an excuse to butt in. He wondered why he had started to compare her to Cho Chang.

And most of all, he wondered _what on earth_ was that fuzzy feeling in his stomach?


	12. Whisper

Whisper

"Hermione!" Harry murmured.

"Sh!" She hushed him, not taking her eyes off Professor McGonagall for a second.

"But Hermione-"

"Shush!" She told him harshly.

"Hermy-"

"You know I hate it when you call me that!" Hermione whispered furiously, pressing down so hard on her parchment that her quill nib broke.

"Miss Granger? Is there a problem?" The stern Professor asked, staring down her glasses at a sheepish Hermione.

"No, Professor." Hermione mumbled. An angry blush stained her cheeks as she bowed her head in shame. When the teacher turned away, Hermione turned her head and glared at Harry. "That was entirely your fault! I've never been so-"

"I just wanted to say, you missed out the fifth law of Transfiguration." Harry said, slightly put-out, nodding at her notes.

"Oh, thanks." Hermione went even redder and brushed a curl behind her ear. She hid behind her hair, but even Hermione's mass of bushy tendrils couldn't hide the slight curve to her lips.


	13. Beach

Beach

When Hermione showed up at the Dursleys' offering to take Harry on her family holiday for the rest of the summer, his 'darling' relatives were all too happy to agree. They stuck their noses outside long enough to check that the Grangers were a _normal_ family ("Nice car," Uncle Vernon grunted), and sent him sprawling onto the welcome matt. He had never been happier in his life.

It was only about half an hour later that Harry mustered up the courage to ask, "Where are we going?" meekly.

"Florida." Hermione replied, a huge sparkling grin spread across her face.

"I don't mean to be a bother-"

"Nonsense." Hermione's mother –_"Call me Emma,"-_ told him firmly. "Dan won the tickets in a raffle. Hermione mentioned you might need to… 'get away' from your relatives." A disgusted sneer crossed her face as she mentioned the Dursleys.

Harry sent Hermione a grateful smile.

When they arrived in Florida, the first thing Harry noticed was that there were only two bedrooms. Hermione immediately claimed the bed closest to the window, and plonked her luggage down on the mattress firmly. Harry wandered over to the other bed and sat himself upon it awkwardly.

"We'll have to get you a new wardrobe." Emma decided, oblivious to Harry's protests.

"Now, there'll be no funny business between you two." Hermione's father –_"Call me sir,"_\- informed them gruffly. "I won't have my daughter taken advantage of by some hormone-ridden teenage boy. I am a dentist, you know!"

For some reason, he didn't seem assured by Hermione and Harry's denials.

But whatever he'd promised her father, it didn't stop Harry from loving the beach.

He'd never noticed how _good_ Hermione looked in a bikini.


	14. Trust

Trust

"Trust me." Harry told Hermione, feeling her arms clenched tight around his waist.

"But it's scary!" She complained in an uncharacteristic whine.

"It's not." He assured her. "It's like… living for the first time!"

"You sound insane. It's not comforting." She grumbled.

"Just don't fall off and you'll be fine."

"What kind of instructions are th-oh-se!?" She yelped as the broom began to climb and buried her face into Harry's shoulder.

"See, no one died!" Harry yelled cheerfully, whooping as he dived.

"Not yet!" Hermione shouted back.

"Just trust me!"

"Trust isn't going to stop me plummeting to my death." Hermione muttered darkly, but she did loosen her grip a little.

She never admit it, but it felt wonderful.


	15. Revenge

Revenge

Hermione watched Harry pace around the tent worriedly. His face was thin and drawn, and he looked like death.

"Harry, why are you doing this to yourself?" She asked softly, fiddling with the blanket wrapped around her legs.

"Voldemort's getting stronger and stronger-"

"I know that." She told him flatly. "I meant this whole quest thing. You're seventeen! We're children! This shouldn't be our war to fight!"

"My parents died so he could be defeated." Harry shot her a glare, and his fists clenched.

"No, they died so you could live." Hermione corrected him, her eyes full of pity. "Do you really think they'd want you to die for a cause?"

"I need revenge, Hermione. I'm in too deep now."

"That's what I was afraid of."


	16. Echo

Echo

Everyone expected Harry to marry Ginny. But he _couldn't_. Whenever he looked at her, heard her words, saw her voluptuous curves, her lush red hair; he saw his dead mother. He saw Lily Potter in her nose, her loud boisterous charm, her personality. And it _hurt_. He felt bile rising in the back of the throat whenever she swayed her hips and pouted her lips at him. He felt _sick_. Ginny was just an echo to him.

Hermione was different. She was slender, smart, _soft_ and kind. She was understanding and stubborn at the same time. Yielding and strong all at once. Seeing her every day was like a breath of fresh air. Her presence made the world all the more vibrant, brighter.

He would never get tired of her.


	17. Jealousy

Jealousy

Ron practically _steamed_ in the corner of the Gryffindor common room. His ears were bright red and the glower on his face could have matched that of the Basilisk. Everyone in Gryffindor could tell the subject of his disgruntlement: the sight of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger giggling and exchanging kisses. It was almost sickening how sweet they were, and Dean Thomas was entertaining half the house with a (fairly accurate) mime of the couple. Every exaggerated sigh, every mouthed "Oh Harry!" only made the Weasley grow more and more irritated.

It was the funniest thing the House of the Lions had seen for a long time.

The twins were even considering making t-shirts.


	18. Lies

Lies

Hermione started crying when she saw the scars on the back of Harry's hand. Harry's face immediately turned red with embarrassment and he tried to jerk his arm out of her grip.

"S'ok, Hermione. It doesn't really hurt." Harry said gruffly.

"Why did she make you write these words on your skin, Harry?" Hermione asked him furiously.

"So I don't tell any more 'lies'."

"So why did you just lie _twice_?" Hermione asked him, and his heart panged when he saw her tear-streaked face. "Don't cry 'Mione-"

"This is a pointless, _stupid_ punishment!" she growled angrily, and set her teeth. "Come on; let's get you some Murtlap Essence."

"I don't need it, Hermione."

"Stop _lying_ to me!"


	19. Regrets

Regrets

"Do you regret having me, mum?" The child with wild black hair looked up at her mother.

"Why do you say that?" asked Hermione, crouching down to enfold her daughter in a warm hug.

"Some of the kids at school say you were too young to really know what you wanted, and now you're stuck with me. Am I an inconvenience?"

"No sweetie, you could never be an inconvenience. You're the best thing that ever happened to me." Hermione told her seriously, resolving to have a chat with the headteacher. "And I'll never regret falling in love with your father."

"But he's dead!"

"And he died fighting so you could grow up in a safer world, and that's a true cause. I'm sure he doesn't regret his decision, up in heaven."

"But he left us alone."

"You're not alone; you have me!" Hermione smiled, and took her hand. "Now, what do you say about getting ice cream?"

"Yay!" The child yelled, and ran off to fetch the floo powder.

Hermione looked around Grimmauld Place with a sad smile. "Thank you, Harry." she murmured to the silent house, and followed her daughter.


	20. Midnight

Midnight

"Hermione, it's past midnight." Harry told her desperately. "You need to get to bed."

"I have to revise, Harry!" Hermione said hysterically. "The NEWTs are next week. These exams will determine our careers. The rest of our lives are at stake!"

"Hermione, you know as Harry Potter's girlfriend, you could get a job anywhere. You could get straight Ts on these exams and still become a Healer."

"Of course these exams are important!" The bushy-haired bookworm shrieked in indignation. "Just because _you_ feel the need to coast along on your fame, doesn't mean we all do!"

"You know, you're starting to sound like Ron." Harry said slowly, narrowing his eyes. Hermione felt shame well up within her, as her love felt the need to bring up the rarely spoken of Weasley. "I'm sorry. I'm just so _stressed_, and I'm sure I'm going to fail." Hermione's eyes began to get watery and she rubbed her face with her hands. Harry gave her a gentle smile. "Do you know what's a sure fire way to pass?"

"What?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Sleep."

Hermione nodded reluctantly and let Harry take her arm and lead her to the foot of the girl's dormitory staircase.

"Goodnight." Hermione yawned, giving her boyfriend a kiss and turning away. Harry coughed obviously and, when Hermione spun back, he was tapping a foot impatiently. She looked nervously at his raised eyebrow. "Yes?" She said meekly.

"Book." Harry held out an expectant hand. With a sullen expression she slapped her tome into his arms with force. Harry staggered slightly under the weight, but still managed to give her a smile. "Now bed."

"I have books in my trunk." She muttered, stomping up the steps.

"I heard that."

"You were meant to!" Hermione threw angrily over her shoulder.

"And I removed them!" The Boy-Who-Lived informed her cheerfully. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him in shock. "How?"

"Parvati."

"That traitor!" She cursed and marched imperiously the rest of the way up. "I'll get you in the morning, Harry Potter!"

"I look forward to it." Harry chuckled.


	21. Confessions

Confessions

"I barely know anything about you, Harry."

"You've been friends with me for 6 years!" Harry scoffed, crossing his arms defensively.

"You don't _talk_, Harry, that's the problem. I ask questions about your primary school and home life and you just change the subject!" Hermione threw her arms up in the air in frustration. "I'll tell you what; we'll make a game of it. You tell me a secret, and I'll tell you something that I've never told anyone else."

"_You _have secrets?" Harry asked incredulously.

"_Yes_ Harry. I have secrets. Personal things, which I don't share with _you_. _Surprised?_" Hermione hissed angrily.

"No?" Harry mumbled uncertainly, shying away from Hermione's patronising nod. "I'll, um, start. I, er, used to sleep in a cupboard."

Hermione gasped in horror, but took her turn regardless. "You and Ron were my first friends."

"I considered… killing myself. When Sirius died." Harry muttered in shame.

"I had problems with my weight in third year. I didn't eat for days, and was admitted to the infirmary eventually."

"How could we miss that?" Harry asked in dismay.

"I didn't want you to worry, and I had a time turner. It was easier than you'd think." Hermione said ruefully. Harry enfolded her in a hug, "I think you're beautiful." He mumbled into her shoulder.

"I know." She confessed.


	22. Passion

Passion

"Oh Harry," Hermione panted as he nibbled along her collarbone.

"I love you so _much_." he growled into her soft skin, peppering her neck with searing kisses.

"'Love is a spirit all compact of fire,'" she quoted breathily.

"I love it when you talk Shakespearian." Harry moaned, his hands roaming freely.

"Come upstairs and I promise I'll recite some _Twelfth Night_." Hermione promised, her eyes bright and eager.

Harry couldn't move fast enough.

_"O, then unfold the passion of my love."_


	23. Crush

Crush

Hermione looked pretty today, Harry noted dreamily. He was propped up on his elbow, gazing at her with adoration.

Hermione noticed his stare with a confused raised eyebrow. "Is there something on my face?"

She frowned at the intensity of his look. "…A _lot_ of somethings on my face?"

"No," Harry assured her sweetly. "You look _perfect_."

"Riiiiight," she nodded, and edged away nervously.


	24. Chocolate

Chocolate

"The chocolate's spiked." Hermione warned Harry absent-mindedly, flicking over a page in her book.

"Romilda again?" Harry rolled his eyes, and pushed it aside.

"Mmm." Hermione nodded.

Ron strode into the Great Hall, grinned and slid onto the bench beside the duo. "Hey guys- oo, chocolate!" Ron reached for the box.

"It's sp-" Harry began.

"Don't bother." Hermione advised, not taking her eyes of the text.

Harry sighed as Ron stuffed the chocolate into his face, and his eyes immediately glazed over.

"Ah, let's get this idiot to Slughorn." Harry clapped his hands to his thighs and got to his feet, throwing Ron's arm over his shoulder.

"'Mione?" Harry prompted.

"Moron." Hermione sighed, and slammed her book closed. She stood, placing it into her bag, and threw the strap over her shoulder. "You're carrying him."


	25. Alone

Alone

Harry looked into the mirror. Staring back at him were the kind faces of Lily and James Potter. He pressed himself up against the glass, hungrily drinking in everything he could about them; the slight upturn to his mother's nose; the crookedness of his father's glasses; the smile on Lily's lips that was exactly mirrored on his own. But then he looked over his shoulder.

And he was alone.

No one was _really_ there. It was all just a dream.

In the glass, he watched Hermione walk in. She gave Lily a hug and James a kiss on the cheek, and went to stand beside his reflection, squeezing its fingers.

Then he felt a warm hand in his own. Harry glanced to the space beside him, and was shocked to find Hermione's knowing eyes gazing into his own emerald ones. She leant her head on his shoulder, and Harry watched as she did the same in the scene before him.

His parents looked down upon the pair with approval (and his father mouthed 'snog her socks off', only to have his mother hit his shoulder in a silent rebuke.)

Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder and revelled in the warm realness of it. He wasn't alone anymore.


	26. Rain

Rain

Harry stared darkly out of the window, watching the rain batter the old and cracked glass. A few droplets of rain squeezed their way through the fractures and Harry's line of sight followed them all the way down to the thick red rug. The Gryffindor sighed and leaned back in his seat, sinking into the velvety softness.

"You're brooding again." Hermione noted, perching on the arm of the chair.

"Somewhere out there, free and roaming, is my parent's betrayer" Harry said despondently.

"It won't do you any good to go searching for him, Harry." Hermione warned.

Harry only grunted.

"We can only hope he's getting _really_ wet." She teased, earning a reluctant snort from Harry.

Far out on the moor, a shaggy haired dog whined.


	27. Letters

Letters

"BOY, THERE'S A LETTER IN THE MAILBOX FOR YOU! IT LOOKS NORMAL!"

"Coming, Uncle Vernon!"

_'Dear Harry,_

_Professor Dumbledore told me and Ron not to write, as our owls could be intercepted. So I decided not to write with an owl at all, but use non magical communication. I'm sure that hasn't occurred to the Death Eaters and I doubt Voldemort spends all of his time rifling through mail rooms. I don't think Professor Dumbledore thought of it- Wizard 'logic', eh?_

_Nevertheless, I won't put awfully sensitive information in the letter, but I will tell; don't get frustrated, we haven't forgotten about you! Professor Dumbledore said something about 'charging the Blood Wards' but I'm sure we'll come to get you soon._

_But enough of that, here's some information I can tell you and the Daily Prophet:_

_Earlier this week…'_

Harry sighed contently and settled back to enjoy a nice, fat letter full of news. Thank goodness Hermione had some sense.


	28. Cold

Cold

The Dementor reached towards his godfather, gnarled grey-bone hands grasping blindly.

_-No no no! Not him! Not Sirius!-_

Harry tried to grab his wand, to cast the Patronus, to repel the Dementor and get it the _hell _away from the man who had just promised him his long-awaited family, but it was getting closer and closer, and his blood was growing colder and colder, ice freezing his veins…

And then a bright light. The Dementors disappeared, but he was still so _cold_.

_-Sirius! Have to save Sirius-_

He felt himself get heavier and heavier, his limbs leaden as his arm dropped helplessly to his side. And then his hand found Hermione's, and suddenly he was warm again.


	29. Dark

Dark

Harry couldn't breathe. The walls around him were closing in, trapping his breath within his chest and squeezing his ribs. Was he in Azkaban? His cupboard? He thought maybe it was Azkaban, he had a vague memory of _'guilty!'_, but maybe they sent him back to his relatives as a punishment. Ron probably squealed about their treatment of him.

He refused to consider that maybe Hermione did too.

The thought of her, laughing whilst he was thrown into the darkness, hurt.


	30. Addicted

Addiction

Harry breathed into Hermione's hair. Her scent filled his nostrils and he closed his eyes as the comforting aroma enveloped him. The lemony musk was intoxicating, and even when they had different classes or were on opposite ends of the castle, he still swore he caught whiffs of it. He suspected Hermione did it to torture him.

Said girlfriend giggled and pecked him on the nose, dragging him off to goodness knows where. Harry didn't care. For just a moment in her presence, he would follow her to the end of the earth. He was addicted.


	31. Flower

Flower

"What flower do you think I am, Harry?" Hermione asked absent-mindedly, as the pair of them lay on the grass besides the lake.

"A violet." Harry answered immediately.

"Why?" Hermione turned over to face him, leaning on her arm.

"Firstly, because after seeing your dress at the Yule Ball, the only thing I can see you as is a violet."

Hermione laughed.

"Because you're modest and virtuous. You don't throw yourself at me like Romilda and Su Li, but you still give me affection when I need it. I know you'll always be faithful, and so will I. I also know you'll always be watching over me, making sure I don't do anything idiotic." He tapped her nose and she crinkled it in amusement.

"Because when I asked you to go out with me on a date, it was a risk. I took a chance at happiness, and it paid off. I'm happy with you, really happy. But mostly, because I love you, 'Mione."

Hermione sighed and moved onto her back again, shuffled over slightly so she was lying into Harry's side. "I didn't know you knew Victorian flower language, Harry."

"Snape made me do it." Harry grumbled.

"Well, it's _very_ romantic." Hermione assured her flirtingly, and Harry threw his head back in laughter.

The dark figure standing in the window watched the pair with a distant longing, as the son of his enemy said all the things he wanted to say to _his_ love. Because Lily had been a violet, really.


	32. Snow

Snow

"Hermione!" Harry called out, rushing into the common room. "It's snowing!"

"I know." Hermione said grimly, resolutely keeping her eyes on the page.

"But… then why aren't you outside? Come on!" Harry insisted, grabbing the book and throwing it onto the couch.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled indignantly, and snatched it up, dusting the cover off and examining it like it might be hurt.

"What? It's snowing!" Harry complained.

"God, you sound like a hyper five year old." Hermione rolled her eyes.

Harry pouted. That was _not _what a fifteen year old boy wanted to hear from his girlfriend.


	33. Temptation

Temptation

Hermione was dating Ron. It had finally happened; the inevitable disaster.

Harry sat brooding in the corner of the common room, staring darkly into the fire, trying his best to ignore the frantic snogging occurring behind him.

It was so _tempting_ just to stride over to them, punch Ron in the face and tell him _exactly_ how much he didn't _deserve_ the wonderful Hermione.

… Merlin, he had anger issues.


	34. Autumn

Autumn

Hermione was autumn.

The crumbling leaves drifting in the wind blurred into the curls of her hair. The eyes on a butterfly's beating wings turned into the brown of her pupils. The thumping of a rabbit's back legs as it leapt through the air echoed her beating heart. She was somewhere in between living and dying; the perfect balance of burning and freezing.

She was a child leaping in a puddle and screeching with joy. She was curling up on a window seat beside an open window, the refreshing breeze brushing against skin. She was sitting around a barbecue, wrapped up warm as you laughed with those you loved.

Hermione was comforting and Hermione was autumn.


	35. Unity

Unity

Harry sighed as he settled beneath his usual tree, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. As usual, some unexplainable event had happened due to no fault of his own, and Harry was the one being blamed for it. And even worse, Ron had abandoned him.

"So much for 'best mates forever'," Harry mumbled, resting his head against the trunk.

"Hey Harry," Hermione said softly, sitting cross-legged beside him.

"I didn't put my name in the goblet, I swear." Harry swallowed a sob.

"I know," she murmured, wrapped an arm around him, "I'll stick by you, no matter what."

"Thanks 'Mione."


	36. Hurt

Hurt

"I didn't mean to hurt you." Hermione said into Harry's shoulder, voice muffled.

"You promised," Harry closed his eyes against the tears. "You promised you wouldn't leave."

"I'm back now," she crooned.

"Stay with me." His eyelids fluttered, the potions finally making their way through his system.

"Always." Hermione whispered, lowering him back into the hospital bed and brushing the hair off his face.

"Always." Harry breathed softly as he fell asleep, a content smile playing on his lips.


	37. Truth

Truth

"Tell me the truth, Harry Potter!" Hermione threatened angrily, advancing on her cowering boyfriend.

"I swear I didn't!" He protested, raising his hands in surrender.

"Did you, or did you not, sleep with Ginny Weasley?" Hermione demanded hysterically, brandishing a newpaper with a headline proclaiming loudly 'BWL WITH HARPIES HEAD?'

"No!" He backed away further. "Why would you think that? I love you!"

"It's just… it's just…" Hermione struggled for words.

"Yes?" Harry said meekly.

"Her boobs are bigger than mine!" Hermione burst out, before dissolving into tears.

"No, shh shh shh; I love your boobs!-"

A weak giggle.

"No honestly, they're perfect! Look, completely lovely."

Hermione pushed him off with a fond roll of the eyes.


	38. Rogue

Rogue

"You slanderous black-hearted knave! Take your hands off the fair lady! Fear not, gracious madam- I shall protect your honour!"

Sir Cadogan protests were mere background noise as Harry and Hermione fell against the wall, desperately grasping at each other.

"I'm going to kill him," Harry murmured against her lips.

"You can't destroy portraits- Dopple's fifth law," Hermione gasped, her breath hitching as Harry laid kisses on her neck.

"I love it when you talk technical to me." Harry whispered, his hand sneaking towards her backside.

"You rogue! You scoundrel! Unhand the gentle princess, or I'll run you through where you stand!"


	39. Proposal

Proposal

"Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Get off the broom, you fool."

Harry jumped off his broom with a cocky smirk and a sweep of his hair. "C'mon Hermione love! Please?"

"I am twelve years old, Harry Potter! I am not being betrothed! And certainly not to an arrogant idiot like yourself." Hermione stuck her nose in the air and marched out, Draco Malfoy faithfully at her heels.

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "She wants me."

"I don't know Harry… she seemed pretty certain."

"Don't be stupid, Neville. Don't worry, mate. She's totally yours." Ron slapped his friend's back.

"You're right!" Harry brightened and jumped onto his Nimbus again. "Hermione!" He shouted as he whisked out of the door.

The Great Hall giggled.


	40. Tulips

Tulips

"How did you know tulips are my favourite flower?" Hermione asked, inhaling the floral scent.

"I'm just that amazing!" Harry said cockily, smoothing back his hair.

"You had no idea, did you?" Hermione raised her eyebrows knowingly.

"Not a clue." Harry admitted.


	41. Glitter

Glitter

"There is _not_ a spell _just_ for making glitter. What crazy guy came up with _that_?" Harry asked incredulously.

"There _is!_ Look, it says so in here!" Hermione scolded him, brandishing her heavy tome at him.

"I don't believe it!" Harry laughed, nudging her.

"Look!" Hermione pointed. Harry waved his wand dubiously, _"Facere micati."_

"… Oh."

"_Told_ you it was real."


	42. Fearless

Fearless

"You don't have to be ashamed." Hermione told him comfortingly, rubbing his arm.

"My stupid boggart is a dementor, 'Mione. Fear _itself._ How cowardly is _that?_ I'm supposed to be in the house of the brave!"

"No one's fearless, Harry." Hermione murmured.

"I should be."

"But you shouldn't."


	43. Together

Together

"We're in the middle of the countryside, on the run and I'm number one most wanted, 'Mione! Ron -oh stop flinching, it's just a name- abandoned us and my bloody wand's broken! What the hell do we have to be happy about?! We have nothing!" Harry shouted. Hermione backed away slightly, letting out gentle sobs. "W-we have each other. We're _together_."

"It's not enough." Harry told her harshly.

"It _is_-"

"It's not." Harry stalked out of the tent, leaving Hermione to quietly cry.


	44. Heartbroken

Heartbroken

Harry laughed.

"And so I said to Dean; 'You're nuts! I mean, we only kissed once and I was totally hammered, and _Merlin _do I regret _that_ decision.' But he kept coming on to me! So of course I whipped out my wand and fired a quick hex. And _boy_, did he run." Ginny had a savage grin on her face as she recounted the tale and Harry roared with laughter. He had to lean on her shoulder to stop himself from falling over.

And Harry would never admit that his amusement was a little false.

After all, he never spotted the look of heartbreak on Hermione's face.

He _didn't._


	45. Champagne

Champagne

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, scandalised. "It's illegal."

"Just one sip," Harry tempted, waving the wine glass underneath his girlfriend's nose.

"No!" Hermione knocked the glass away, giggling.

"Come on…" Harry implored. Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed the glass. "_Fine._" She knocked back the alcohol exasperatedly, but immediately her eyes widened. "Oh my god, it's like liquid life."

Harry looked smug. "Mm hm."

"It's the stars in a liquid state!" She wondered.

"Indeed."

"Give me the bottle!"


	46. Loss

Loss

"Everyone's lost someone, Harry! You're not the only one! So stop _snapping,_ it's not our fault!"

"Yeah, but you all have something _left_, Hermione! Your parents may live in Australia and Ron may have lost a brother, but I have nothing- no one!"

"I'm sorry," Hermione said quietly.

"And that doesn't change anything," Harry turned his head away.


	47. Holiday

Holiday

"I'm not going home for the holidays." Harry told Hermione bluntly, not looking up from his Potions essays.

"Not even if you can come back to mine?" Hermione wheedled.

"I'm not meeting your parents!"

"Why not?"

Finally Harry looked up and Hermione saw the fragility and fear in his green eyes.

"What if they don't like me? What if they realise I'm a- a freak?"

"You're not a freak, Harry," Hermione reprimanded softly. "And they'll love you."


	48. Roses

Roses

"What are you doing?" Hermione hissed at Harry, trying not to be distracted from Professor Flitwick's lecture.

"I bought these biros, and I'm drawing on your arm." Harry murmured unconcernedly, sketching out an image lightly.

"Stop!" Hermione wrenched her arm away from her boyfriend. "That won't wash off for ages," she examined it concernedly.

"It'll be fine," Harry rolled his eyes. "…What do you think?"

Hermione allowed a smile to curl her lips. "It's amazing Harry. Do you take summer classes?"

Harry blushed lightly at the compliment. "No, but I'm thinking of it."

They both gazing at the picture drawn on Hermione's arm; a detailed rose with delicate curling petals growing out the mouth of a snake.


	49. Sparkle

Sparkle

"Hermione!" Harry whined.

"What?" She rolled her eyes, tugging on his arm as she led him back to the Common Room.

"I'm _sparkling_."

"So what?"

"This is so embarrassing! Ron will see, Lavender will see- oh Merlin; _Dean _will see."

"It's your own fault for not believing me."

"Who would believe there's a spell purely for creating _glitter?_"

"Well clearly you should have."


	50. Magic

Magic

"You know what you are?" Harry whispered through the darkness, his warm breath on Hermione's shoulder.

"No," she whispered back, turning over so she had her face to his, their noses almost touching.

"_Magic._"

Hermione laughed. "That was just awful."


	51. Fire

Fire

"HERMIONE!" Harry yelled. The smoke from fiendfyre obscured his vision and he couldn't make out her figure any more. His heart beat faster and faster- had she been consumed by the crackling flames? Every moment he wasted was another second for the fire to advance, and he clutched the broomstick tight.

"HARRY!" There! Her voice, muffled by the smog. He shielded his face from the heat and dove off his ledge, flattening against the stick of the nimbus.

"POTTER!" And there was Malfoy, in the opposite direction.

So of course, he chose Hermione. And she was there to comfort him in the night when he woke up screaming.


	52. Thunder

Thunder

"Daddy?"

"Yes sweetie?" Harry mumbled, reaching wearily over to the bedside table and fumbling as he perched them on his nose.

"I don't like the thunder," Lily whimpered.

"Come on, curl up between me and mummy." Harry hugged his daughter as she crawled under the covers. "We'll keep you safe."

"Harry? What's happening?" Hermione groaned, not opening her eyes.

"It's all good, darling, go back to sleep."


	53. Scars

Scars

Harry glanced at Hermione out of the corner of his eye as he heard her groan. The Golden Trio were sat in Shell Cottage, a dull silence muffling the air between them. They had experienced things that no seventeen year old should ever have to experience. They all had scars, even if they weren't visi-

"Hermione?" Harry said quietly. She jumped and flinched as if she expected a blow.

"Hermione?" he repeated, more urgently this time. Harry leant over, praying to Merlin that he was wrong, that he hadn't just seen- "blood? Hermione, why is there _blood_ on your clothes?"

She tried to cover it with a shaking hand, shield it from his view, but Harry easily knocked them away and pulled up her red-stained sleeve. Ron gasped, Hermione winced, but Harry just stared into her chocolate eyes, his face draining of colour.

"Bloody hell, Hermione. Did Bellatrix do that to you? It looks bloody awful- Harry mate, are you alright?"

"Ronald," Hermione spoke firmly, her teeth gritted against the pain. "I think Harry and I would very much appreciate it if you left us alone for a bit."

"Oh, right," Ron said awkwardly, his face turning green as the blood dripped on the floor. "Got it. I'll just go, shall I? Just-"

_"Goodbye."_ Hermione reminded him, and he escaped through the door.

_"Why?"_ Harry looked broken.

"_This_ is precisely why, Harry. You've got so much on your mind and I just _know_ you're going to blame yourself when there was _nothing_ you could have done-"

"But it was my fault-"

"No it wasn't. It was _her_ fault, for being such a psychopath in the first place."

Harry traced the jagged words with his eyes. "Don't hide things like this from me. _Please._"

Hermione wore a pitying smile as she reached down with blood-covered fingers to stroke his cheek. "But Harry, sometimes I have to."


	54. Vanilla

Vanilla

"Why don't you smell like vanilla?" Harry asked, lying casually on Hermione's bed as she dried her hair.

"Excuse me?" Hermione turned around, half of her hair a frizzy mess and the other half sleek ringlets.

"Well, you smell like lemons-"

"You've been sniffing me, have you?" Hermione laughed.

"But your shampoo; it's vanilla scented."

Hermione abandoned her hair and smoothly crawled over the mattress towards Harry.

"Maybe it's just my… natural aroma, and nothing can overpower that" she murmured, her warm breath on his neck. Harry shook his head, "No, because remember that time when Ron cast the switching spell wrong and you smelt like manure for a month."

Hermione shoved his shoulder. "Shut up!"


	55. Broken

Broken

"Harry, mate, there's nothing you can do. I-I'm sorry, but we need to go. They'll bring her up to the castle later, but we've got to get down to the-"

"NO!" Harry screamed, rocking back and forth as he cradled his fallen girlfriend in shaking arms.

"Harry, I know you love her. I do too, mate-"

"No, you _don't_," Harry spat furiously. "You wouldn't be able to leave her here like- like _this_ if you did. Oh, my poor, poor _sweet _Hermione…" He mourned, stroking the side of her face.

Ron felt his heart ache as he looked at them: Hermione, trembling and distant from the aftershocks of the Cruciatus, and Harry, eyes dark and furious at the world.

They were both broken.

He wondered if he was too.


	56. Fade

Fade

The veil was like a pool; a silvery ocean, stretching on for miles. You could swim in one direction and never stop.

At least that's what it felt like to Harry.

Drifting for eternity, reaching out in desperation for uncertain silhouettes which were always too far away, he felt his mind slipping away.

The only thin string that still tethered him to sanity was the memory of a girl with soulful brown eyes screaming as he dived… somewhere.

He didn't remember. And the memory was fading, her- or was it a he? Harry couldn't remember anymore- face blurring.

Harry closed his eyes, let his head fall back, and surrendered to grey oblivion.


	57. Imagination

Imagination

"Wow," Hermione mused, her voice carrying in the vast silence. "People put a lot of thought into these positions."

"Huh?" Harry asked. Hermione gestured with her head impatiently, and her boyfriend hurried to read over her shoulder. Harry pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as his eyes turned suspiciously clouded.

"I'm a fan of page 53, myself," Hermione flicked through the book and Harry's breathing quickened, _"Yes."_

"Come on," she winked cheekily and plonked the book down on the table.

"Won't we be needing-?"

"Oh I _have_ a very good memory."

Harry nearly tripped over the hem of his robes in his hurry to follow.

Hours later, when Madam Pince picked up the book to sort it away, tutting as she did, she would spy the cover, turn bright red, mutter "Well I _never_," and promptly go to dispose of it, because a book like that had _no_ business in a school library.

And if she read it in bed later, well, who had to know?


	58. Silence

Silence

Harry thought the best part about Hermione was her silences.

No, no that sounds wrong… the way Hermione knew how to _place_ her silences- there, that's better.

In contrast to her constant chatter, the moments when she'd just _stop_ and hold him… they were magical. That's not to say he didn't love her talk and fuss, it made him feel loved and cared for, but there were moments when it just came too _much_ and he couldn't _breathe_ and wouldn't she just leave him _alone_?

And she did. Sort of. She sat down next to him, put his head in her lap and just ran her fingers through his hair, until his thoughts disappeared into a relaxing sea of nothingness.

In the deafening bustle of the Dursley household, his cupboard had been his safe haven of silence. He'd never thought he'd find somewhere that made him feel safer.

He had.


	59. Shine

Shine

Hermione was jealous of Fleur, of her shine. The Veela held a light and grace that few could ever come close to, and Hermione felt her self-esteem drop with every moment spent in her presence. As the blonde's light grew brighter, Hermione's dimmed and the flame that usually burned within her shrunk to little more than a matchstick glow.

But Harry didn't notice Fleur's shine. His gaze drifted straight over her like she wasn't even there, and focused on Hermione like she was the most important thing in the world. His gaze was fuel, feeding the fire inside of her and, day by day, it grew brighter.


	60. Bright

Bright

"You're looking bright and cheery today, Hermione. That Mr Potter must be doing you good," Professor McGonagall winked conspiratorially.

Hermione's healthy glow deepened as she blushed scarlet, and buried herself in lesson plans. "I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean," she insisted, a slight squeak of embarrassment colouring her words.

"My dear, you're a colleague now, not a student. I daresay we're even friends. We can discuss these kinds of things." McGonagall lowered her voice conspiratorially. "I was quite the 'sex kitten' back in my day-"

Hermione leapt to her feet, spluttering. "Goodbye!" she declared and marched out the door.


	61. Rumours

Rumours

"'Parently you two are dating," Ron muttered sullenly, shuffling his feet stubbornly.

"That's right Ronald," Hermione said wearily. Harry shifted uncomfortably, feeling guilty pangs in his heart. Hermione squeezed Harry's arm reassuringly.

"I just don't _understand_," the redhead complained petulantly.

"When two people have feelings for each other, like me and Harry, they ask each other out on a date," the bushy bookworm explained slowly. "This usually includes a meal of some sorts and a gift. Harry got me flowers and-"

"I know what a date is!" Ron burst out, ears glowing furiously.

"Well then I don't understand the problem," Hermione dismissed. "It's perfectly healthy and I enjoy it a lot. I was uncertain when Harry first-"

"You were in love with _me_!" Ron exploded, his voice deafening.

Harry took a step back, and Hermione looked alarmed. "Heavens, what gave you _that_ idea?!"

"We argued! We fought! We made up!"

"All things that friends _do_!" Hermione objected.

"But we were… _we _were…" Ron, struggling for words, turned on his heel and marched out of the Great Hall, doors swinging shut with a bang behind him.

Harry sighed. "Well that could have gone better."


	62. Bell

Bell

"Harry, the bell's gone…" Hermione murmured against her boyfriend's lips, gasping when he squeezed her breast.

"No it hasn't," Harry objected, pressing his lips harder against hers and coaxing them open.

"It _has_," she mumbled, pushing him away. "I don't want to be late."

"Fine," Harry sighed reluctantly. He leaned in closer, warm breath tickling her ear. _"But we're continuing that later."_

Hermione blushed and giggled.

_Brng! Brng!_

"Okay, now it definitely has," he admitted, picking up his school bag and charging after a swearing Hermione. "WAIT FOR ME!"


	63. Red

Red

"Harry, I don't know what to do," Hermione whispered, desperately pressing trembling hands to his stomach.

"You… have… to keep… pressure… on it," Harry coughed, thick blood coating his lips.

"Harry, I need to get help," Hermione bit her lip, anxiously glancing down the corridor. She felt her heart speed up with every second that they were in the open, and a sob rise in the back of her throat as she felt her hands grow stickier. "We need to _move_," she choked.

"N-no!" Harry grasped her wrist with surprising strength. "If… you leave… I'll die." He looked up at her with wide, desperate eyes. "You… won't… come _back_."

Hermione felt a tear running down her cheek, red to match the sky.


	64. Doubt

Doubt

"Hermione, do you love me?" Harry asked suddenly.

Hermione's hand paused, fingers caught in the tendrils of Harry's hair. "Of course I do Harry. Why ever would you think otherwise?"

"Fred and George-"

"Fred and George are a pair of no-good trouble makers who have no business sticking their long noses into our relationship!" Hermione interrupted furiously.

Harry raised his eyebrows slowly. "As I was _saying_; Fred and George were telling me about something Parvati said."

"Oh," Hermione blushed.

"She said that you had a crush on Ron and so… so she didn't know what you were doing with me. And that it was probably for the money."

"That's not right at all Harry. I _love_ you."

"But-"

"I don't know what Parvati thinks she knows about me anyway. We haven't spoken since third year."

"Oh. Okay then. Sorry."


	65. Butterfly

Butterfly

"I like butterflies," Hermione announced suddenly one afternoon.

"What?" Harry asked, startled out his deep thoughts of treacle tart and whether ghost ever needed to use the toilet.

"I _said_; I like butterflies," Hermione repeated.

"Oh." Harry blinked. "Why's that, then?"

"They're free. They don't have gossip or exams or Dark Lords to worry about. They just _fly_," Hermione sighed, gazing out across the lake.

"You're being extraordinarily angsty today, 'Mione." Harry said teasingly and nudged her. "It's almost like you're turning into _me_."

Hermione nestled into his shoulder. "That would be awful," she murmured amusedly.

"Simply _dreadful_, I know. Because then I'd be dating myself, and I'm sure Malfoy could come up with a million insults just from that."


	66. Kiss

Kiss

"WHAT?"

Hermione and Harry quickly broke apart, lips swollen and hair mussed. They spun around, scrabbling for a grip on something other than the other person. Both of them quickly froze as they saw the red-tinged face of Ron Weasley staring at them.

"YOU TWO?" He roared, spit spraying.

"Ron, calm down," Hermione tried.

"NO I WON'T CALM DOWN! I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU!"

Hermione stood up. "Well I'm in love with Harry," she said stubbornly, "and there's nothing you can do to-"

"OF COURSE YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH BLOODY POTTER. HARRY POTTER GETS WHATEVER HE WANTS! FAME, MY PARENTS, MY GIRLFRIEND-!"

"I WAS NEVER WITH YOU, RON!" Hermione shrieked, tears in her eyes. "I'M NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND! YOU'RE AWFUL TO ME! DO YOU THINK I WANT TO BE CONSTANTLY PUT DOWN BY MY BOYFRIEND?!"

There was a silence. Ron broke it.

"I wanted your kisses."

Hermione stood tall and strong, eyes blazing defiantly. "Well you can't have them."


	67. Nightmare

Nightmare

Hermione awoke to screaming. Instinct kicked in, and she dove for her wand, flashes of sickly green light pulsing across her vision. She fumbled on the bedside table, her clumsy fingers finally closing around cold wood. Hermione spun around, only to find herself pointing her wand at her writhing husband, caught in the throes of a night terror.

Hermione sighed and carefully placed her wand back, shuffling closer to Harry. She enclosed him in her arms, feeling his heartbeat racing beneath his skin.

"Sh, darling," she murmured. "It'll be alright. It'll be alright, I promise."

Harry's eyes were half-opened, only terror in the green depths as he stared at an unseen horror. He whimpered, his lips closing around frantic, silent spells.

"It's fine, all fine," Hermione soothed. It was her turn to comfort. She was sure it would be his tomorrow.


	68. Subtle

Subtle

Harry's flirting was subtle. A wink so quick it could be a blink, a flush of red across his cheeks upon eye contact, a brush of fingertips on the back of her hand. Small, tiny things that had happened for years. So understandably it was difficult for Hermione to realise that Harry was trying to tell her something.

But when she finally got it, when she _finally_ grasped that _yes, he liked her_, it was all worth it.


	69. Mercy

Mercy

In the Battle of Hogwarts, the last person Harry expected Voldemort to focus upon was Hermione. He regretted that immensely.

"Please!" Harry cried desperately. "Just don't-"

"_Hurt_ her?" the Dark Lord hissed silkily. "Why ever _not_? It's just so easy to-" He flicked his wand slightly and Hermione collapsed to the ground, screeching in pain. Harry flinched at the spectacle of her mangled arm.

"Please-"

"_Beg_ Potter! I want to see you _beg_! Get on the ground and _beg_ for the life of the woman you love!"

Harry fell to his knees, glasses sliding of his nose in a morbidly comical sight. "_Please_! PLEASE! I'll give you anything! Anything…"

"Well doesn't this bring back _memories_? Dear Severus, pleading for the life of- _why_! I _do_ believe it was your mother! Not that it did that filthy mudblood much good."

There was a loud chorus of jeering laughter from the gathered Death Eaters.

"This! _This_ is your saviour!" Voldemort addressed the deathly still crowd of Hogwarts students, teachers, and Order of the Phoenix members. "_Snivelling_ at my feet, _bowing_ to my power. Where he belongs."

That statement seemed to ignite the last flames of strength in Harry, and he began to struggle to his feet. "I don't-"

"Ah ah ah! Naughty naughty Harry. I did warn you." Voldemort scolded lightly. "_Crucio_."

Hermione shrieked and convulsed in agony, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Harry started crawling towards her, but Voldemort kicked him cruelly and the Boy Who Lived fell, rolling onto his back, eyes glassy with horror.

"_Love_ did this to you, _boy_," the Dark Lord sneered. "It's a weakness, no matter what your precious Dumbledore thought. And where did it get him? _Dead_. As dead as you shall be. And you can die safe in the knowledge that your precious mudblood Granger will follow soon after. But not _too_ soon. Maybe I'll let Fenrir play with her. He's been _dying_ to have a go, after all. And Lord Voldemort is _nothing_ if not kind to his loyal followers. See! Your love will live but a little longer. How merciful Lord Voldemort is."

Voldemort took a step forward, gliding over the blood-stained grounds of Hogwarts. He leaned over slightly, towering over the Boy Who Lived, who glared up at him in defiance. "But for now, goodbye Potter. You never were much of a match." His ruby eyes flashed cruelly as he raised his wand, all attention focused on Harry. _"AVADA KED-_"

And then, he stopped. Looked down at his chest, where the tip of a blade emerged smoothly from between his ribs. And letting out a breathy laugh, he fell.

"Love is anything but a weakness," Hermione spat. "And your mercy was misplaced."

"Hermione!" Harry breathed, and ran into her arms, sobbing with relief.

"Hello love," she whispered. "It's all over now."


	70. Rainbow

Rainbow

Hermione raised her eyes at the large rainbow banner hung over Harry's bed.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" she asked pointedly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Seamus and Dean got it for me. They seem to think I'm gay. Keep telling me to 'join the pride'."

"Well you do have an _excellent_ fashion sense."

Harry raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. "Are you kidding me?"

Laughing fondly, Hermione pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Maybe just a little."


	71. Mistletoe

Mistletoe

Mistletoe is so _annoying_, Harry growled mentally, pushing his way through waves of girls. Each one held a bunch of mistletoes above their head, brandishing it triumphantly as they puckered up for the chosen one.

"Out of the way!" Harry shouted, looking pleaded up at the head table. But McGonagall simply smiled at him smugly, mouthing 'Transfigurations homework'. Harry glared at her and shoved another girl out of the wave, sending her toppling over the Hufflepuff table. He winced guiltily, but another Ravenclaw came to take her place, and the feeling mysteriously vanished.

He looked around, but no bushy head of hair in sight. Why did it feel like all the females in the world were gathered around him, except for the one he actually _wanted_? _Well_, he steeled himself, sometimes you have to work for the prize.


	72. Key

Key

"Where's the key!?" Harry shouted, scanning the sea of fluttering wings with his heart pounding out of his chest. Every minute he wasted was another minute for Snape to get to the Stone…

"It's there!" Hermione nudged him and raised a shaking finger at the huge, bronze wing hovering wonkily in the left corner of the room.

Harry felt unbelievable relief and, without thinking, he grabbed his startled friend and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Thanks Hermione!" he yelled, and grabbed a broomstick.

As Harry took off, Hermione raised a trembling hand and touched her glowing cheek. "_Oh,"_ he breathed.


	73. Locket

Locket

"Go on!" Ron whispered, pushing Hermione forwards.

"I _know_!" she hissed back, rubbing her shoulder. She tentatively crossed the tent, approaching Harry with caution.

"Oh, hullo Hermione." Harry raised his head from The Tales Of Beedle The Bard, and smiled softly at his bookworm friend.

Hermione swallowed and her lips twitched nervously. "Yes, um, hello Harry. Well, the thing is, see; me and Ron, we've just noticed that you, er, your personality has certainly… changed. Since you started wearing the locket, that is."

Harry gave her a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, sorry about that. I think it was getting to me. I've put it in the moleskin bag- it won't be as safe, but at least I won't keep lashing out at you two."

A delighted grin grew on Hermione's face and she threw her arms around him. "Oh Harry!"

The locket throbbed knowingly, safely hidden under the fabric of Harry's shirt.


	74. Perfect

Perfect

"Hermione!" Harry called up, testing the stairs to the girls' Gryffindor dormitories with one foot. It was no use: he knew as soon as he tried to climb them, the stairs would smooth to a slide. "Hermione, we're going to be late!"

"Shut _up_ Harry!" she called back down, her voice thick.

"Hermione, are you _crying_!?" Harry brow furrowed.

"No! Just… just go without me, okay? Go find some pretty Beauxbatons girl and dance with _her_."

"Oh," Harry realised what the matter was. "Hermione! You look perfect! I _promise_."

Then she appeared: wraped in a floating, violet material, hair twisted back and decorated with flowers, her skin glowing and radiant… and an uncertain, slightly watery smile on her face.

"See?" Harry told her, pushed a loose tendril of hazel locks behind her ear. "_Perfect_."


	75. Drunk

Drunk

It was on Harry's 23rd birthday that he drunkenly admitted his feelings.

"And I just- you and Ron are getting married, y'know?" he mumbled, leaning against her shoulder as they slowly swayed. "And me and Ginny broke up, but I'm not that said 'cause I always liked you instead-"

"What?" Hermione said, pulling away.

"You're so pretty and nice and just really, really _great_, but you and Ron-"

Hermione frowned. "Ron and I broke it off. He was sleeping with his secretary. Horrid girl." Although she didn't see that upset.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

And then she slowly drew him in for a kiss. It was bitter, and tasted of alcohol, but it was perfect.


End file.
